The light's gone out of him
by CrazyFM
Summary: A missing scene set between season one and two. Thursday takes Morse for a drink.


**The light's gone out of him**

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Endeavour.**_

_A missing scene between season one and two._

Detective Inspector Thursday was in a good mood as he grabbed his hat after work. There had been a breakthrough in the case they had been working on and he was on his way to meet Morse. The young DC had all but vanished since the gun shot he took to his hip. At first he had been recovering at home, after that he had been sent to the county police by the higher ups. Thursday had protested that of course. He would have much rather had Morse recovering, where he could keep an eye out for him. Fred Thursday knew about the problems Morse had had with colleagues or his superiors in the past. He had even observed how those problems most likely came to be. Morse was special: He was brighter than most cops and not afraid to show it. And most of all he was idealistic. While that in itself was a very recommendable trait, it led to problems when the young man thought he had a lead or things weren't done the right. The young DC was unafraid to tell even those off that were higher in rank than he was. Fred Thursday admired that about the young man, but it rubbed many people the wrong way. Add his tendency to brood for extended periods of time, losing touch with the world around him and you get a receipt for loneliness and mockery.

That was why Thursday had become increasingly worried, when Morse hadn't called or visited in all this time, even though the DI had told him to, when he had brought him back from his family's home to see a doctor.

Of course Thursday had known that the chances of Morse taking up the invitation were slim. The young man probably thought he would intrude. Still, Fred Thursday would have liked the chance to check on Morse.

His wife had all but sent him to Morse's flat today after work. She told him not to come home, before he had seen his bagman.

According to her, he had been fretting.

Well, he couldn't say no to his Win.

That was why he was on his way to Morse, hoping the boy was in and up to a surprise visit.

It was only a short drive to the DC's flat and a little later Thursday was standing in front of the door. He was slightly nervous what he would find. Still, there was no sense in delaying it any further, so he took heart and knocked on the door.

There was nothing to be heard from inside, only silent opera music. He was in then.

Thursday knocked again. "Morse?" He called.

A moment later the door opened. "Sir," Morse greeted his boss.

Thursday raised his eyebrows at the younger man's dishevelled state. His hair was even more tousled up then normal, he had dark bags under his eyes and his shirt was rumpled. He had lost weight too. But the most disconcerting thing was his gaze. There wasn't even a trace of interest in it.

The DI cleared his throat: "Get ready! I am taking you out for a drink."

The younger man gave him a weak smile. "Sir, you don't have to..."

"Nonsense," Thursday interrupted him. "I'll wait in the car. You have five minutes."

Five minutes later Morse was indeed downstairs, getting into the passenger seat. Thursday had contemplated letting him drive, but experience had taught him, that letting a sleep-deprived Morse drive, wasn't the best idea. He gave the DC an once-over. His hair was slightly more orderly and he had straightened his shirt and his tie. He was nowhere near his normally smart looks and the bags beneath his eyes were still visible, but it would do.

The ride to the pub was spent mostly in silence. Morse was in no mood to talk. He was fighting sleep and had a headache on his way.  
Thursday didn't really know how to start conversation. It was quite clear, that the younger man was deeply troubled. So Smalltalk seemed out of the question and Thursday would like to speak about his bagman's troubles when they both had a pint in front of themselves.

Also Thursday by now knew that Morse would never talk about his troubles when prompted, but rather at the most unexpected of times. Morse was the kind of guy, who would talk with you about a case like always and after a moment of silence tell you that his dog had died – metaphorically speaking.

The DI parked his car in front of the pub and got out. Morse was lost in thought and didn't even register the car stopped moving. The older man opened the passenger door – no reaction.

"Morse?" He said gently. "We are there."

The young DC startled a bit and then got out of the car.

They weren't at their usual pub. Thursday hadn't been sure, if Morse was ready to meet his colleagues, for example Jakes, yet. They sat down on a table in the corner and Thursday went to get the first round. When he came back with two pints he found the younger man staring at his knees. His fingers were tapping a nervous rhythm on the table.

Thursday set the pints on the table and sat down opposite his young colleague. Morse looked up at him and took a large gulp of his beer.

"Thanks," he said.

The Inspector only nodded in response. "So, how are you?" he asked.

"I'm fine," Morse replied, not looking him in the eye.

"Right," Thursday sighed. It couldn't have been more obvious the young constable was lying. "My Win is worried about you," he tried.

The young man looked at him, with disbelieve. "She shouldn't be."

There was another tense silence.

Thursday cleared his throat: "So what are you doing down at County?"

"Mostly paperwork," Morse replied.

"So, no interesting cases? You can't tell me, you didn't get involved in even one." The DI had known Morse for some time now and if he had learned one thing about the younger man, it was that he had a need to solve cases. Morse needed the stimulation and the feeling to make a difference. It didn't matter, if he was allowed to help or not. The Morse he knew would break into his superior's office to get information on a case, if he had to.

Morse actually snorted at that. "No, no cases for me. They made it quite clear, that my help was not appreciated. Said, they didn't need me playing detective for them and that I should keep my fantasies to myself."

Morse took another deep gulp of beer.

Even though he tried to hide how much it bothered him, Thursday could see the vulnerability in his eyes.

"Well, it's their own bad," the DI said with certainty. "County isn't known to be especially bright. They could certainly use your help. However, I'm glad, that they won't try to take you away from my team. You are a great detective and it would be a shame to lose you to County."

Thursday watched Morse closely. The younger man seemed to brighten at least a bit.

"You are missed at Cowley, you know?" He asked his DC. "Just yesterday Bright asked about you. You seem to have found your way to his heart."

"Yeah, sure. I bet he is counting the days till I get back..." There was it, a trace of the old Morse's sarcasm. Thursday counted it as a win.

The evening went much more smoothly after that. They talked a bit about one of Thursday's cases and drank some more beer. At the end of the evening Morse was almost back to normal.

At around midnight Thursday decided it was enough for the day. Morse eyelids kept dropping when he was listening to the DI.

Back at Morse's flat he followed the younger man right up to his door, making sure he didn't fall down the stairs, because he fell asleep standing upright. Morse was accident prone like that and Thursday wasn't going to take any chances.  
He would have come in too, to make sure Morse reached his bed, before he inevitably collapsed, but Morse was adamant he would be fine.

There was no doubt in the DI's mind, that his bagman would fall asleep in his shirt and trousers again. He smiled fondly, as he remembered the time the DC had napped on his couch.

That was just Morse for you: Always running himself ragged, until he collapsed.

Thursday sighed. He hoped that one day the lad would learn to take care of himself.

When he drove home that night he was still worried about Morse.  
The lad may be better physically, but there was no missing the slump in his pasture and resignation when they had said goodbye or whenever he talked about work.

The DI had always known the younger man to be passionate about his work. For him to look so defeated – it was truly disconcerting.

He would have to talk to Bright again, maybe get the lad back early.

When he reached his home, Win was still awake, waiting for him.

"How is he?" She asked.

He hugged her to his chest, once again grateful for his wonderful wife.

"It is as if the light's gone out of him," he said gravely.

**The End**

_I hope you liked it. I am not sure yet, if I will continue this one day, I have one or two ideas. For now let's just consider this story finished.  
Please review and let me know if you liked it and if you think I should continue this._


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